


Friend in the Crowd

by tearlessNevermore



Category: Heretical Edge - Cerulean
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-02-18 13:05:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13100745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tearlessNevermore/pseuds/tearlessNevermore
Summary: Flick had been warned about the strange people she might meet on the internet, about some of the monsters out there. It turns out that some of the monsters are quite nice.





	1. Chapter 1

I could still remember when Dad had shown me how to use the internet. He’d explained how he used it to research for his articles and collaborate with his colleagues.

Then Mom had taken over and told me how to be careful. How I shouldn’t give away my real name or address, not even my age if I could help it. I could still remember how she’d smiled when I’d repeated everything back to her, how she’d kissed me on the forehead and told me to go have fun.

It seems like a lifetime ago now. Like I was a different person. Like they were different people.

But it was an exciting time. People never took me seriously in school, scoffing at my dreams of being a reporter, of finding bad guys and exposing all their secrets.

But online… it was a different story.

Behind fake names, fake lives, people chatted and talked. About their hopes and dreams, their worries and cares. It took a while for me to get my head around the fact that people could be more honest if they were lying about who they are than in person. That anonymity frees you to speak your mind.

You could be anyone online. Or meet anyone. From literal nazis and scum you wouldn’t want to share air with, to friends.

**sparkywings has opened a chat with bigscoop**

**sparkywings:**

| 

oooooh flickerrrrr~  
  
---|---  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

how’re you doing?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Well, atm I’m seriously regretting telling my oldest friend my irl nickname.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Apart from that… not that great, tbh.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

what’s wrong? ?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

You know I mentioned my irl best friend on here, right? Randy?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Well, she’s moving away now, her family got a job somewhere else and she’s got a new school. Some kind of boarding school, I think.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

One that doesn’t allow phones. Or emails.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

wait, seriously? places like that are still legal?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Yes, sparky, they are. And my best friend (no offence) is going to one. Leaving me.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Again.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

oooooooh damn. sorry Flicker, that srsly sucks. ?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Not your fault, Sparky. Thanks for being here for me. That’s more than enough.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

i could be there for you irl. just say the word and i’ll be right there. i know you wanna keep things seperate, but if you ever change your mind...  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

The thought’s appreciated, sparky. But the answer’s still no. My mom may have been a colossal b***h, but Dad still insists I follow her rules.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

I don’t want to give him any more reasons to worry.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

i get it. anything else you wanna talk about?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Nothing on my end, not really. Got a dental appointment coming up, which should be fun /s, but nothing else.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

What about you? You got any interesting stories? I’d kinda appreciate a pick-me-up atm.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

one feel-good story coming right up! ☝?  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

okay, here’s the story:  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

there’s this guy in the community where i live. he’s a pretty cool guy, tbf, but he’s really strict about safety.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

he lost family in something a while back, so i can’t exactly blame him.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

anyway, he’s strict on stuff like not wandering off and getting in before curfews, stuff like that. but he really looks out for us.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

this one time a few of my, ah, cousins were bugging me. I like tinkering with stuff, you know that, right? but they were trying to get me to stop doing it. said it’d draw attention and get me into trouble someday.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

really insistent on it. one of them started to try and smash a thing i’d been working on. i’d only just started tinkering with stuff, so they were pretty much junk. but they were **my** pieces of junk.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

so, this guy noticed what was happening and interrupted, stopped ‘em and gave out to them for trying to stop me. i couldn’t follow a lot of what he was saying.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

afterwards, he helped me find a safer place to put my stuff, where i could work on it in privacy. and he put in a word with one of the guys he was working for.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

umm, then there’s some stuff that i probably shouldn’t talk about here, no offence. but i could keep tinkering with stuff, with actual sponsorship instead of scrounging for scraps all the time.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

eh, sorry. i ended up cutting the uplifting part. but, basically, he agreed to supervise me when i worked to prevent things going wrong. or, more accurately, to stop me doing something i shouldn’t.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

for such a paranoid guy, it was a pretty sweet thing to do. i wouldn’t have been able to do nearly as much as i have without him.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

That is pretty sweet.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

He sounds kinda like what I’ve always imagined an older brother to be like.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

yeah, he’s pretty cool, in the end.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

you feel any better now?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

A bit. Still bummed out over stuff.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

wish i could do more. ?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

You help lots, sparky.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Anyway, I gotta go now. Seeya sparky!  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Thanks for the story!  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

anytime, flicker!!! ?  
  
**bigscoop has left the chat**

 

**sparkywings:**

| 

hopefully ‘next time’ will be in person.  
  
---|---  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

this chat room wipes itself once it leaves, so i guess you won’t see this.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

just as well, really. i think you’d freak out a bit.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

. . . i’ve just been chatting to myself then, haven’t i?  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

nice going, namythiet.  
  
**sparkywings has left the chat**

**the chat is empty**

**< chat cleared>**

“You’re pretty focused on that Bystander friend of yours,” Seth noted, giving Namythiet a start. As usual, the vampire had managed to approach her without triggering any of the alarms or defences she’d established. It may have been good practice, but it never stopped being unnerving.

“She’s nice,” Namythiet said, turning away from the screen to face Seth and defend her friend. “and I’ve checked and double-checked, she really is who she says she is.”

“You do realise that tracking down a random human off the internet and digging up their information sounds like a Heretic’s precautionary story about Alters, I hope,” Seth quipped before turning to leave Namythiet’s workshop.

“I’m not going to do anything bad to her though.” Namythiet protested, fluttering into the air and cutting in front of Seth. The Tiebreaker rolled his eyes and gently pushed Namythiet out of the way.

“Whatever. I don’t really care what you do with her, just so long as it doesn’t lead back to us. You know the rules.” Seth paused before turning back to Namythiet, his face turning more serious. By his standards, anyway. “Actually, I tell a lie. There is one thing. If you turn her, make her into a Heretic with your blood, then you better be prepared to look after her, you got that?”

“Look after her?” Namythiet asked, head tilted.

“Yeah. Coming into this world from being a Bystander is a scary thing. Lots of ways to mess up and get yourself killed or worse if you catch the wrong people’s attention. So if you ever want to bring someone into all this, then you’d better be prepared to help them, to teach them the ropes and stop them from going crazy.

“And be there for the long haul too, because you’re both gonna be around for a couple of centuries if nothing kills you. It’s not something to be considered lightly, you got that?”

“I… I got it, Tiebreaker Dozeran,” Namythiet managed to say. “But how did you know? That I was planning to, you know...”

“Couple of different things. Partially because I knew you were making plans to find and visit her and that you wouldn’t be satisfied unless you could talk to her on some form of level footing. Partly because I know you’d love to bring your friend into some of the cooler stuff around here.

“But mainly because you were badgering me about the process a few days ago and there aren’t really any other possibilities for who you had in mind.”

Seth gave a half-hearted wave before sauntering out, leaving the workshop and a more thoughtful pixie behind.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Something was off, but I couldn’t figure out what. School was on break, so I’d slept in a bit while Dad went into work. He’d gone through the motions of fussing over whether or not I could feed myself and get myself dressed, grinning and laughing once he could no longer keep a straight face.

I tried to figure out what was bugging me.

The breakfast things were right where they were supposed to be, as affirmed by the note Dad had left “Just in case!”. The door was closed and locked, as were all the windows. Nobody else was in the house.

I started to make a list, like Dad did when trying to figure stuff out, but stopped when I realised that it was just a list of “Everything is normal”. There wasn’t anything out-of-place. Nothing that should be bugging me.

I was considering putting it down to my imagination, possibly from still being half-asleep, when the penny dropped.

I’d slept in, I knew I had. I’d planned to, even. But, even on vacation, I didn’t like to sleep in _too_ much so I usually set my alarm clock to wake me later than usual. That morning it hadn’t gone off.

For a moment, I wondered if I’d forgotten to set it the night before or if I’d just imagined doing so. But, when I cast back, I could distinctly remember keying “11:00” into the clock while Dad joked about my future career in the military on account of my timekeeping.

I made my way back to my room and picked up my alarm clock, flopping onto my bed while I turned it over.

I wasn’t entirely sure what I was doing, it wasn’t like I was going to spot any major signs of sabotage. The display on the front was still lit and keeping time. I pressed the “Test” button and immediately released it to stop the shrieking.

It seemed to be working fine and a few clicks showed that the alarm I’d set was still there. It should have sounded… but it hadn’t.

I couldn’t help but glare at the stupid clock. It had _one_ job to do each day and it had failed. And now it had thrown off my entire morning, sent me chasing around the house. Which… had more to do with me than the clock, in fairness, but still!

Idly, I flipped the clock around until my fingernail caught in a crack. It was the tight space between two parts of the casing, where the transparent front met the hard plastic back.

I didn’t have anything else to do, so I dug my thumbnails into the crack and tugged gently, but firmly, until the casing snapped apart. I examined the plastic for a moment, but it looked like it hadn’t cracked.

Rolling onto my front, I laid the two parts down onto the bed, examining the exposed electronics. Dad had said not to try and mess around with electronics in case I got shocked or cut myself or any of a dozen other things, but I wasn’t really planning on messing around. I was just taking a look.

The clock was one of the ones that took the time from radio waves, constantly updating. It could also receive broadcast signals, for when I felt like waking up to music instead of a screaming-beeping-cacophony. I traced from one part of the clock to another, figuring out which part did what.

The aerial it used to receive signals was obvious, as were the power source, the speakers and the display. The buttons on the front fed into a solid block that all the components fed into. The “brain” of the clock, that told the display what to, uh, _display_ , that turned on the speakers and fed it the signals received through the aerial. Whatever had gone wrong that had stopped the clock from sounding, it had originated there.

Hopping off the bed, I wandered around the house a bit more, looking for a few things. I should probably have just let it be, but I was bored and curious, ever a dangerous combination.

Dad kept a small kit with insulated gloves and a small selection of tools under the kitchen sink. Gloves donned against potential shocks or cuts, I picked out a few tools that looked like they were vaguely relevant to electronics and headed back upstairs.

First off, I disconnected the battery from the rest of the components, to minimise the chances of getting zapped. Then I pried the rest of them out, one-by-one until they were all strewn out across the bed. It was simple, like one of those really obvious jigsaw puzzles.

Then I turned to the “brain” of the clock. If it had a proper name, I didn’t know what it was. Either way, I managed to lever the small box open with a few minutes of patient work. The inside... was not a simple jigsaw puzzle.

It was full of little bits of plastic and metal, stuck together to make funny shapes and smaller components. I couldn’t even think about trying to dismantle it, not with how they were soldered in place. Dad might have a soldering iron stored away somewhere, but I wasn’t about to start fooling around with _that_.

Instead, I spent time trying to make sense of the brain. It was much more complicated than the rest of the clock, but its own sub-components were relatively simple. Picking an area and tracking it, connection by connection, to see how it fitted together, I began to get an idea how it worked.

I lost track of how long exactly I spent absorbed in piecing together the brain, but it finally _clicked._ Not literally, that is. Rather, it suddenly made sense.

I still couldn’t fiddle too much with the structure of the brain, but there were still a few things that I thought I could do with it using the other parts. I was in the middle of adjusting the receiver to listen to a different range of frequencies when it hit me that I didn’t have a single freaking clue what I was doing.

Or, rather, I knew _exactly_ what I was doing, but not the slightest idea how or why I knew. When I’d gotten up that morning I knew how to set or adjust an alarm on the clock, but now I was setting about reprogramming and repurposing it based on a strange surety of how it worked?

I stopped, screwdriver in one gloved hand and electronics in the other. Then I carefully re-assembled the alarm clock, exactly as it was. Mostly. I thought I’d adjusted a few things slightly, according to how I felt they _should_ go together rather than how it had been assembled.

The once-more lit display informed me that it was almost half past one in the afternoon. I’d spent over an hour messing with the clock. Still in something of a daze, I put the clock back in its place on my bedside locker and collapsed onto the bed.

Then I got back up again to strip off the gloves and move the tools onto the floor, where they wouldn’t jab into me. _Then_ I collapsed onto the bed properly and stared at the ceiling.

Something... something was most definitely wrong. Maybe not _wrong_ wrong, but something wasn’t normal. Thinking back on that hour of fiddling with the clock... it had seemed so _natural_ , so _logical_ , so _easy_. It had seemed so obvious, looking at it, to see what went where and did what. It was like I’d uncovered some hitherto undiscovered super-talent for repairing alarm clocks.

I laughed at that, chuckling to an empty room. I felt a bit better after that like it was some kind of relief. It didn’t answer my questions though. Why was I suddenly the second coming of Marcone? I could remember being confused by the school’s new light switches a few weeks back, for crying out loud!

And what had interfered with my alarm? Somewhere in the middle of my examination, I’d managed to deduce that everything was, indeed, functioning as it should. There was no reason why my alarm didn’t go off unless something _else_ had sabotaged it without actually touching the clock itself.

Staring at the ceiling again, I strained to try and remember if anything out of the ordinary had happened yesterday or last night. But there was no point. If something had happened, it had been while I was asleep. I wouldn’t have been aware of anything to remember.

When Dad came home later, he was worried about how quiet I was. He calmed down when I told him that I was just trying to puzzle out something weird that I’d noticed that morning. I didn’t like telling part-truths like that, but I didn’t want to go to him with only part of a story. Maybe I’d tell him if I still hadn’t worked everything out by the time school came back.

I’d put the tools back where I’d found them and tried looking up some stuff about electronics. It, ah, turned out that either college courses were way easier than I’d been lead to believe or I was turned into a mad scientist overnight.

I was over an hour into a video of a lecture on the construction and design of circuit components and I was keeping up. I thought I was slightly ahead of the lecturer even, but I kept having to pause the playback to write down names for things.

My research was not to go uninterrupted, however.

**sparkywings has opened a chat with bigscoop**

**sparkywings:**

| 

oooooh flickerrrrr~  
  
---|---  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

ah, sorry, I meant to be more serious this time  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

force of habit  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Hello Sparky! Sorry if I’m not the greatest conversationalist today. It’s been a bit of a weird day.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

“Serious”? Why, is something wrong?  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

nononononono!!!  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

nothing’s wrong!  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

just had something I needed to talk to you about.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

soooo… when you say “weird day”, what do you mean?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Something felt off when I got up. Then I figured out _what_ was off, but not why or how.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

It’s not a bad feeling, more a “there’s a story here that I’m not getting” one.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

But what was it you needed to talk to me about?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

You said that nothing was wrong, so it isn’t anything like you having to leave or go silent for a while (again).  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Actually, that’s just about the only thing you’ve ever been in any way ‘urgent’ about in the past.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Letting me know when you wouldn’t be online for a while, I mean.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

If it was big _good_ news then I don’t think you’d have neem “serious” about it. More likely you’d have opened up the chat gushing over it.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Actually, even though it’s important, you still asked me about my day first. So, either you’re nervous (which doesn’t fit with “nothing’s wrong!”) or...  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

“or...”?  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

you always make me nervous when you trail off like that.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

like you’re glaring at me suspiciously over the internet or something.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

Flicker?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Sparky? Sorry if I’m being paranoid or weird (in my defence, I _have_ had a really weird day), but you wouldn’t happen to know anything about why I was having a weird day?  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

gah. okay, I swear I was going to tell you, but I wasn’t expecting you to figure it out first. you’re pretty scary when you’re on a roll, you know that?  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

if the “something off” involves being able to take apart stuff like they’re lego and then knowing how to put them back together in a dozen different ways then yes, that’s my fault.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

uhhh, Flicker? you still there?  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

really really sorry, but I swear I had a good reason!  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

I’m still here. Just trying to figure some stuff out.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

So… all those times that you mentioned “tinkering” with stuff… _this_ is what you meant?  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

yeah  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

Flicker, I’m really really sorry.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

I’m not mad, Sparky.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

really?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Not really. I mean, you basically gave me superpowers. Somehow.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Just… how? And why? Because I’m waaaay too lost atm to figure out if I should be mad at you.  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

okay, okay, umm… I’ll explain, but it’s kind of awkward to do it like this?  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

would it be alright if I explained it in person?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

I was about to get mad, but I guess you would have to know where I live to do… whatever you did?  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Alright then. The usual warnings about not meeting people over the internet don’t really apply here. Not at this point.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

But why do you have to explain in person?  
  
**sparkywings:**

| 

because this way you’ll believe me.  
  
**bigscoop:**

| 

Of course I’ll believe you.  
  
 

I was still waiting for Sparky to reply again when something tapped against my window. I glanced over, but couldn’t see anyone and assumed that it had been a bird or a random rock (they happen!).

Then there were several taps in quick succession

**sparkywings:**

| 

wait I’m dumb. Flicker, that’s me knocking on your window. could you let me in?  
  
---|---  
  
Looking back and forth between the window and Sparky’s newest message with my head tilted, it took another round of tapping to rouse me from my confusion to get up and open the window.

One the pane was open a crack, it was pulled out of my grasp and I felt something brush past my arm. Just to be safe, I pulled the window closed and turned the lock.

“Sparky, you there?” I asked. Or, rather, I _tried_ to. My voice came out muffled and distorted. Then my ears popped and the background noises shifted slightly.

“Ah, sorry about that. Just making sure nobody’s listening in.”

Sparky’s voice was high-pitched and fast, practically tripping over itself. Whatever about her enthusiasm, the reason for the pitch of Sparky’s voice became apparent when a spot on my desk shimmered and revealed… a very tiny teenager?

Sparky was small enough to fit on my hand with dark blue hair and strange clothing that looked vaguely like leather armour. There was a needle-like object that took me a moment to recognise as a sword attached to her waist and a few other pieces of metal with glowing lights buckled on at various places.

And she had wings. Bright violet wings on her back that fluttered slightly as I looked.

“You have wings,” I said, demonstrating the legendary keen observation skills all reporters should strive for.

“Yeah, I do.” Sparky smiled slightly. It was hard to tell at that kind of scale, but she looked pretty young. About my age, maybe? “Sorry for surprising you like this. I guess I owe you an explanation. But, first off, hi Flicker! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too, Sparky.” I only returned the greeting on reflex. Most of me was still reeling from the fact that Sparky was a tiny, winged… “Are you a pixie?”

Sparky grinned, the little touches of nervousness that I hadn’t even noticed melting away.

“Yep! A Hephaesetical Pixie, to be exact! That means I’m good with machines and stuff.”

“Good with machines? That sounds familiar...” I half-whispered. Sparky’s grin dimmed a bit at that. “I guess I should sit down for this then? I have a feeling we’re going to be here a while.”

I paused briefly to pull the curtains on my window before settling back into my desk chair facing Sparky, who had settled into sitting cross-legged.

“Okay, so the first thing you should know is that magic exists,” Sparky said. “Actually, no. The first thing you should know is that my name is Namythiet. I forgot to introduce myself properly.”

“Hello, Namythiet. I guess you already know that my name’s Felicity, right?” Spar- _Namythiet_ nodded. “Just so you know, I’d prefer if you used Flick.”

“Got it, Flick!” Namythiet grinned again. “Anyway, like I was saying, magic is real. So are monsters and aliens and all these other kinds of crazy things.”

I just nodded. My oldest friend had just turned out to be a pixie that seemed to have given me superpowers. I wasn’t discounting anything at this point, certainly not the existence of magic.

“Here’s the thing though.” Namythiet continued, “I’ve been wanting to tell you about all of this for ages. You have no idea how much. But I couldn’t. Literally couldn’t. Because there’s this weird thing that’s called the ‘Bystander Effect’. If anyone who isn’t an Alter sees something supernatural, they either forget about it or explain it away.”

“Alter?” I said. “Is that some kind of catch-all term for things that are magic?”

“Pretty much!” Namythiet grinned. “Comes from ‘Alternative to human’, which has some folks salty since they’re older than humanity. But yeah. Alter refers to anything other than a Bystander, more or less. Bystanders are-”

“-people affected by the Bystander Effect?” I finished. Things were fitting together a bit. It certainly explained why I’d never heard of anything like this before outside of stories. It did beg a question though. “And how come I’m not affected now?”

“That’s the part that I had to do something about.” Namythiet hesitated a moment before continuing. “Humans can’t see through the Bystander Effect, not normally. But they can if they’re made an Alter.

“You see, humans don’t really have any powers of their own. Your own, even. But what you can do is take the powers of another Alter. When that happens, you become what’s called a Heretic.

“That’s what you are now, a Hephaesetical Pixie Heretic. Though, just so you know, most Alters think of something different when they hear the word ‘Heretic’, so don’t go throwing it around too much.”

I sat there, turning what Namythiet was saying over in my head. Humans can’t see magic but _could_ be turned into a kind of Alter that could, which was called a Heretic. Seemed simple enough, in theory. I mean, people were turned into vampires and werewolves by bites all the time in stories. I wondered if that meant that Namythiet had bitten me in order to… make me a Heretic. Actually, that raised a lot more questions.

“When you say that I’m a Hephaesetical Pixie Heretic now, what do you mean?” I said, picking my words carefully. I didn’t want to make Namythiet think I was angry or anything. “Like, am I still human now? Is it permanent? How did it happen? Is there anything else I should be able to do apart from building an alarm clock using only a potato?”

Namythiet just blinked for a few moments, then scrambled to try and answer my questions before she forgot them. I, ah, may have overdone it?

“Okay, umm, yes you are still human. Still able to do everything you could do or would be able to do before, just with some stuff added on top. Yes, it’s permanent. Or, at least, I’ve never heard of someone being able to reverse a Heretic transformation. Not on a Natural Heretic, anyway.

“And it happened by… I injected a bit of my blood into your mouth while you were asleep. Not much!” Namythiet hurried to assure me. “It doesn’t take much since we’ve known each other for a while.

“And, as for what you can do… that’s a bit of a longer answer. Heretics can vary a bit. Sometimes you start developing everything at once, other times you just get one or two pretty strong at the start and the rest develop over time. Abilities, I mean. I have a few, so you will too.”

“Abilities? With an ‘s’?” I said, lips curling into a grin in spite of myself. “You mean there’s more than just the mad scientist gig?”

“That’s probably my biggest ability, but yeah,” Namythiet confirmed, grinning back at me. “I’ll go through them with you, so you know what to look for. Oh, and there’s magic! It isn’t really an ability you got from me, but you should be able to do it now.”

I held up a hand to get her to pause, then rifled around on my desk for a moment before finding the notebook I’d been using. Flipping to a blank page, I grabbed a pen and got ready to take notes.

“Fire away, Namythiet! What other superpowers did you give me?”

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, Dad!”

I really hoped that none of my internal second-guessing was visible on my face. Dad was observant and I didn’t really want to have to lie my way through a series of concerned enquiries about what was bothering me.

“Morning Flick!” If Dad did spot anything, he was doing some feelings-concealment of his own, because his smile was the same as usual as he looked up from a thick binder. “Looking for something?”

“Yeah, sorta,” I said, pausing for a moment to figure out how to broach the topic. “Do you know if there are any places that teach self-defence around here?”

“In Laramie Falls?” Dad asked, frowning and putting the binder aside. “Not that I can think of. There is at least one school that’s technically local, but it’d be an hour’s drive to get there. Are you interested in learning?”

It was farther away than I’d hoped, but I nodded. I wasn’t really sure how Dad would react. I doubted he’d flat-out refuse to let me take classes, but whether or not he’d approve or how much justification I’d have to give was a different story.

“Alright, I’ll make a call to see what the details are,” Dad said after a moment, somewhat surprising me. “Did anything, in particular, bring this on? It wasn’t the incident at the dentist’s office, was it?”

I think we both shuddered. The reports that an entire staff of the small clinic had died in mysterious circumstances had read like something from a crime novel, even though not even Dad had been able to hear many details.

“No! It just… seems like it might be a good idea. I mean, journalism isn’t always safe. Even you used to carry a weapon when you were in LA.”

“Fair enough, though if you start taking it as an excuse to get into even more trouble then they’ll stop, got it?” Dad glared pointedly at me for a few moments until I nodded my understanding. Then his expression turned a bit more contemplative. “You know, your mo—Jocelyn had planned to send you to lessons. Those plans kinda fell through. Don’t let that dissuade you though, if you want to do this then I’ll see about starting your classes next week, okay?”

I smiled and thanked my Dad, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. My mother had wanted me to do this, was it really a good idea? I shook my head as if to dislodge my doubts. Even a stopped clock was right twice a day. There was no point second-guessing myself just because I might accidentally do something _she_ would have approved of.

From Namythiet’s _Alter 101_ course the previous evening, I’d drawn a bit of a short straw with regards to physical powers even if the rest were awesome. I’d be able to fly, shrink, and be a bit tougher than normal, but I’d otherwise be a normal human being. Albeit a normal human with magical powers and sci-fi technology. Eventually, anyway.

For the moment, learning to defend myself would at the very least get me into better shape, which didn’t really have a downside.

***

According to Namythiet, it was likely that I would have to wait a while to develop all my powers, since the mad science power came in so strong. Eventually, I’d be able to talk to animals on top of the shrinking, toughness, and flight, but for the moment I was mostly stuck with the mad scientist powers. Only ‘mostly’ because the process of bonding with Namythiet had unlocked my ability to use magic.

Namythiet had left a book (well, an e-book) explaining how to use basic spells along with an outline of what magic was and how it worked. I’d tried to read it after Namythiet had left, but I’d ended up putting it aside until after I’d had a night’s rest.

Pulling my door shut behind me, I moved to my desk, pulled out my notebooks and woke up my computer. Namythiet had promised to show me around the place she lived and introduce me to her friends, but that she had to wait a bit first. Apparently one of the guys in charge of the place had insisted that she give me some time to acclimatise and get used to the idea of magic and the like first.

On the one hand, I was annoyed that I had to wait, but I was also glad that I had a chance to swot up on stuff first. Journalists did their research before going into the field where possible, after all.

Clicking a few times, I brought up the files Namythiet had given me. There were a few books on magic, a few on the ‘real’ history of the world and on Alters in North America. There were a few on different kinds of Alters that Namythiet said had been stolen or copied from Heretics and used the term ‘Stranger’ instead of Alter. There was stuff on Heretics too, which I intended to read particularly carefully.

Of greatest interest to me, however, was a small collection of blueprints outlining some particularly useful kinds of technology.

According to Namythiet, our brand of mad science worked by both studying different kinds of technology, and by building and modifying our own. Rather than starting at basic mundane tech and working up to the ‘fun’ stuff, Namythiet’s plan was to give me a boost by feeding me the details of some of the stuff she’d developed herself.

Several hours later, I wandered down to get lunch. I made a concerted effort to stay rooted in the present after Dad commented on how distracted I seemed. It was difficult when my head was filled with so many new ideas, all fizzing and sparking and exciting.

Namythiet’s idea had worked, eventually. The plans had made no sense to me at first. It wasn’t until I discovered the photos, videos and 3D models that things had started to click into place. It seemed that, at least for the advanced stuff, I had to have an idea what technology was and did in order to make sense of the blueprints.

It had still taken several hours to scan over the entirety of the first blueprint until I had a good grasp on what each part did and how they fitted together. I suspected that now I had a grasp of more advanced topics, the rest would come easier. Even if they didn’t I had time.

With a start that had Dad raising an eyebrow, I realised I’d completely forgotten to read the other materials Namythiet had given me.

***

It turned out that Alters are freaking  _amazing_.

The files Namythiet had provided had been laid out as a series of stories and accounts from different Alters about themselves and their lives.

They weren’t _quite_ as gripping intellectually as the blueprints had been, there wasn’t that element of challenge to them. But they were fascinating. Whoever had put them together was a pretty damn good journalist in their own right, if I wasn’t completely off the mark. Or maybe some other kind of writer.

Whoever they were, they turned what I’d thought would be a dull slog into a veritable page-turner. Dad had to come in and remind me to go to sleep.

Wrapped in blankets that night, head still buzzing with magic and machines, I didn’t feel as lonely as before.

***

School break had gone by in a blur. Each day I spent hours reading about Alters and magic and several more hours studying Namythiet’s blueprints. I’d also attempted a few basic spells to create light and sound, which had worked like, uh, a charm.

Namythiet had insisted that on having a video link for my actual magic practice, citing the risk of blowing myself or the house up if I did something wrong. Thankfully there were no explosions and the sessions were mostly spent chatting with each other in between practicing drawing strange symbols and seeing what they did.

Dad had noticed that something had caught my interest, he was too good at his job to miss something happening right under his nose. He’d made some polite enquiries about what I was doing but had backed off when I mentioned having to do _something_ with my spare time since Miranda left. I really,  _really,_ didn’t like lying to him or manipulating him like that, but I couldn’t think of a way to tell him the truth.

Opening a conversation with “Hi Dad, I’ve got magic powers and am learning how to build death rays with my pixie friend” was a good way to get a blank stare followed by him completely ignoring what I’d said. I’d tried.

Outside of magic though, there was nothing wrong with Dad’s memory and he’d driven me to my first martial arts class the next week, just as promised. It hurt, with muscles being forced to stretch and exert themselves over the course of a few hours. I wasn’t terribly unfit, but that level of exercise on a regular basis would take getting used to.

Since I was undeterred at the end of the first gruelling lesson, Dad had signed me up for the rest of the year. He’d laughed the whole way home at my attempts to hide my aches with my enthusiasm.

By the time I was attending my third lesson I’d made my way through the last of Namythiet’s blueprints and was most of the way through the rest of the material. Our daily chats were interspersed with on-the-spot quizzes to see how well I’d learned, though those often fell apart in favour of discussions about Namythiet’s inventions and stuff I wanted to build.

Then word came down from whoever Namythiet’s boss was. Pending the results of a meeting with him, I would be visiting Wonderland (the name of the place where Namythiet lived) at some point in the next few weeks. And that was how I first met a vampire.

***

"So you're Flick, huh?"

Seth reminded me vaguely of some guy I might have seen on television at some point. Though being a vampire probably precluded him actually being any kind of celebrity. Probably.

"And you're Tiebreaker Dozeran?" I said, trying to be polite. It was difficult. Sneaking away to get into a particular restaurant in a different town for the meeting—apparently, it was chosen because of the lack of sunlight—had been hard enough. Being left waiting for thirty minutes until he arrived late was pushing my patience. Add in the way he slouched in his chair and smirked and—aaargh.

"Sparky's filled you in on me already! Great, not having to explain everything to you should save time." Dozeran smirked and sipped from a flask of... It wasn't blood. I needed to stop being paranoid. "Right-y-o! So, what do you think you'll do next little Flicker?"

"Uh, well, at the moment I'm reading through the stuff Namy sent me," I said, scrambling to cobble together the various ideas I'd had into a more coherent plan. Thankfully, they seemed to click into place with unexpected ease. "Once I have a good grasp of that I'll probably try and build some stuff for protection. For myself and my house, maybe my dad too. After that, maybe once school is out, Namy said she'd introduce me to some people she knows so I can learn more about... Everything?"

"And after that?" Seth prodded.

"After that... Probably try and help out somehow, I suppose? I was planning on being a reporter and I guess I can still do that but I could do a lot more with magic and supertech and stuff. Not sure that there's much call for journalists in Alter society."

"There isn't really," Seth admitted. "My little sister keeps her hand in on the subject, gets another degree in it every decade or so. Mostly uses it for detective work, tracking down assholes who pick on kids and shit. Sometimes even I'm pissed off enough to help."

"Your sister sounds cool," I said. To be honest, she sounded awesome.

"She passes through Wonderland semi-frequently. I'm sure you'll meet at some point. So, unless there's something pressing you need to say....? Nope? Right then, we're done here."

Seth shoved back his chair and strolled away, waving casually as he went. I refrained from gaping. Barely. Because holy shit, Seth was an asshole who—

"Whoops, nearly forget to tell ya," he said from right behind me, "try and get here at the same time next month. Sparky's clever and all but you're gonna have questions she can't answer. But I can probably help you out there. Seeya then."

And he was gone again by the time I turned my head to look.

What an asshole.


	4. Chapter 4

"Seth's a bit annoying alright," Namythiet agreed readily over the line. "He doesn't really care about people he doesn't know or have a connection to at all. He does his job well though and is mostly fair which is better than the last Tiebreaker."

"What sort of asshole was the last one like...?" I wondered aloud. "No, don't answer that, it was rhetorical. Anyway, on to more interesting stuff. Guess what I figured out today?"

"Ooh? Experimenting already? What'cha got Scoop? Tell me, tell me!"

"Well, I replicated that pocket dimension stuff you gave me the blueprints for, then had an idea to combine it with a phone and... You know how there were some memes around about how modern smartphones can do almost anything except, you know, real stuff like fixing things? Well... I kinda just broke that limit."

"Details! This is your first invention, tell me _everything_!"

"Fine. Basically, I grabbed a few trashed smartphones from rubbish bins—it's amazing what people will throw away—then stitched them together and added a pocket dimension generator. So I can put the phone on top of stuff and if they're small enough it'll pop it right into a storage space. Then I can bring it back out with an app, just like a video game. Oh, and I upgraded the phone with some tools and stuff that can fold out with a different app, so I'll have some stuff to work with wherever I go. It's nothing fancy but it's a start..."

"No, that sounds great," Namy said, voice positively glowing with... Excitement? Pride? "Next time we meet I need to teach you about teleportation tech so you can get access to a proper workshop."

"That'd be great, thanks! Until then, I think I'll try and mess around with the Internet or something. See if I can find where Randy disappeared to."

"Oh, yeah! Good luck, Flick. Hope you find her. Shoot, Quing is looking for me. Seeya tomorrow, Scoop!"

Namy's end of the call dropped before I could say anything else. I shook my head, the ghost of a smile hovering over my lips, and started figuring out how the Internet really worked.

***

The Internet was a miraculous construct of a mind-boggling number of servers and networks, constantly talking to one another to create a world-spanning flow of information. And porn. Mostly the latter, as far as I could tell before I managed to make a filter good enough to keep it all away from me.

I waited until Dad was out of the house before beginning my search. I knew Miranda's full name, what age she was, what she looked like, and where she used to live. Between those criteria, finding where she was now schooling should have been easy. It wasn't. Not even remotely.

Search after search returned empty of anything that I didn't already know. I refined the search engine a bit more, tweaked it to peek into stuff that should be restricted. A few more details that time, with data indicating a school that seemed to fit at first... Until I double-checked and found that there was no evidence that she'd been in that area in months, if ever. Unless she literally never went out at all, there would be some kind of trace, right?

I tried to picture Randy willingly staying cooped up indoors. I couldn't picture it, the Randy I knew would sooner burn the school down than that. Okay, a slight exaggeration, but the point still stood. Randy wasn't there.

I worked harder, expanding the engine to access CCTV cameras, phone records, bank statements, anything I could think of. It was... Harder than I thought. Against everything that Hollywood had told me, people didn't connect all their cameras together for any enterprising hacker to gain access to. Phone companies and banks were marginally easier by virtue of being organised better but made up for it with stronger security. I was just coming to the conclusion that I'd have to build a better computer if I wanted to get results before the year was out when I heard a knock on the door.

***

I didn't recognise the red-haired woman waiting outside the front door and neither did the Internet, according to my still-open search engine. She didn't seem to be worried or impatient at being left waiting, she just stood outside the door, in plain view of the cameras I'd installed around the door. At some point while I was working it had started raining, the falling water creating a blurry curtain beyond the porch that made it impossible to see if she was alone. I made a note to rectify that as soon as possible.

She knocked again, sharp but steady beats on the surface of the door. Still not impatient, but insistent.

There wasn't actually anything suspicious about her... But even without Alters and Heretics, there were lots of reasons why twelve-year-olds didn't open the door for strangers. Or Strangers. I dialled Dad to see if he was expecting someone to visit that afternoon and forgot to warn me.

The phone rang for a moment, then cut out. A glance at the screen showed that 'The call could not be made'. I... I didn't think that was an error message that my phone could give me. Not 'couldn't be connected'. Not 'no signal'. Not 'no answer' or even 'number not existent'. 'Call could not be made'.

I tried to ring Namythiet. Same response. I tried to contact her on my computer. The programs wouldn't load.

There was another set of knocks. On the door of my room.

"If you're going for the horror movie vibe, then you nailed it. Congrats." I... I had _no_ idea where I was finding the breath to snark. The woman had disappeared from the monitors as if I didn't already know she was inside the house. I stared at the screen, willing for it to reveal a weird glitch, for the woman to be back outside, for the call to Namythiet to open. Instead, she spoke, the door barely muffling her voice.

"My apologies for my rudeness in intruding in this manner, Miss Chambers. I'm afraid that I do need to speak with you quite urgently."

"Who are you?" I asked, voice hitching slightly. Internally I was beginning to gibber quite a bit. I managed to tear my eyes away from the screen and fix them on the still-closed bedroom door instead. For some reason, she hadn't just entered my room which was... I had no idea what that was.

"My name is Gaia Sinclaire. I was once a colleague of your maternal grandfather, though I understand that may not be the strongest recommendation."

"Oh gee, what gave it away?" I asked, a flash of anger pushing away the fear for a moment, letting sarcasm take its place in my tone. "Was it the fact that my so-called 'mother' ran out on us half a decade ago or the fact that there isn't a single sign of that bitch still in the house? Or did you bother to sightsee while you were breaking in?"

'Breaking in'. I remembered at the last moment to pretend that I hadn't noticed her basically teleporting. There was a slim chance she still thought I was a Bystander. If that was the case, maybe I could play the ignorance card until she went away.

"Good point. My apologies once more for bringing up a sensitive subject. Regardless, I'm not here about Joselyn or her family. Rather, I'm here to talk about the rather impressive collection of advanced technologies you've been playing with."

 _Shit._ I ignored my mental image of Dad, scolding me for swearing.

"What do you want?" I asked, slumping slightly.

"Like I said, merely to talk. May I come in? It's rather awkward to talk through the door."

"Are you going to come in anyway if I say no?" I ask, daring another bit of defiance.

"No, I would not. If you are that distressed then I will depart and return another day, when you're better prepared. Would you prefer this?"

I started to agree, then caught myself. If she could walk over every bit of tech I had from outside the house, then there wasn't anything I—personally—could do to prepare for another visit. The only thing I could do was ask for help... Which could just be luring Namythiet into a trap.

"Come in then, I guess," I eventually said.

The door opened and the woman entered. She smiled and closed the door behind her with a quiet  _click._ A chair appeared from nowhere and set itself down a metre or so in front of me.

I hope you don't mind if I take I seat," she said as she sat down opposite me. "Like I said before, my name is Gaia Sinclaire and I'm a Heretic from an organisation that you may have heard of called Crossroads."

That was all I needed to hear to decide that I should probably check to see if my pixie durability had manifested itself yet. My preferred means of testing was self-defenestration followed by a plummet to the ground below.

***

"I assure you that's quite unnecessary, Felicity," Gaia said, sighing as I floated back into my seat. I hadn't even made it halfway towards the window before I'd been stopped and carried back by an invisible force.

"So much for pretending to respect my opinion," I said, glaring at the intruder.

"I can leave at any time you wish, Felicity. But I can't have you injuring yourself based on unfounded worries."

"Unfounded? I've heard about what you people do! I know that you—"

"That we kill, torture, experiment on and generally treat Alters as subhuman monsters worthy only of extermination?" Gaia asked, her voice soft. I actually looked at her this time. Her mouth was set firm, her eyes downcast. "Yes, that is the majority opinion. But, within our ranks, there are some of us who think differently. Who recognise that Alters are people in their own right. That they're worthy of respect. I am one of those."

"How can I trust you're being honest?" I asked, still suspicious.

"Because if I did not hold such views, I would have already visited and slain your friends in Wonderland." My heart near-stopped, blood turning to ice. "They're presently located in an unfinished hotel building a bit north of here if you're curious. But I have no intention of visiting any harm on them or on you."

"Why are you here then?" I asked, again. Gaia smiled slightly before answering.

"Like I said, I'm one of a group of Heretics that are... Activists, you could say. We're trying to change the views of Crossroads on Alters. Progress is admittedly quite slow, an unfortunate side-effect of having a leadership that can potentially hold power for centuries. In order to change that... We're taking the long route." Gaia paused to glance out the window. "Each year we recruit a certain number students from the Bystander world. Each student is evaluated on a number of criteria to determine whether or not they'd make a suitable Heretic.

"As the Headmistress of Crossroads Academy, I have no small say in this selection process. As a result, I try to seed each year with a number of students who are predisposed to accept the truth. Hybrids, Natural Heretics who have bonded to a friendly Alter, people who are unknowingly close friends or family to an Alter... Those kinds of people. We aren't always successful. But slowly we're changing minds."

"Wait," I said, "is this leading to where I think it is? You're asking me to join your murder cult?"

"Not now," Gaia assured me. "Crossroads doesn't recruit until you're going on seventeen."

"Then why _are_ you approaching me now? Do you usually give your recruitment pitches four years early?"

Gaia hesitated for a moment before continuing.

"I came to you now because you were already a prospective student before you gained your Natural Heretic capabilities. As such, you were already being observed and monitored. If many of my colleagues had noticed your sudden change in status there would have been an investigation. An investigation that would have uncovered your friends and likely have put you in trouble as well."

My breath caught in my throat.

"I was able to catch the unusual reports before they went any further, but there's no guarantee I'll continue being able to do so. In short, you need to be more careful. The next Heretic who visits will probably not be so understanding."

I actually felt physically sick by that point and I think that Gaia could see that. She smiled at me, reached over to pat my knees.

"Don't worry, Felicity. Things aren't that dire. I am not about to leave you to deal with this on your own. Whether or not you decide to come to Crossroads when it's time to make that choice, I will do everything in my power to preserve your freedom and happiness in the meantime. To start with, perhaps consider using those talents of yours to create a more elaborate proxy for your more compromising browsing..."


	5. Chapter 5

"Tada!"

Namythiet spun in midair, gesturing about the room as expansively as she could with her minute size. We were standing in a workshop Namythiet had arranged for me in a safehouse somewhere... I thought it was to the west since it was a bit lighter outside. The safehouse was basically a 'cosy'-sized apartment above ground and accessible by a 'teleport beacon' of some sort that Namy had built based on the powers of someone called Venice. The basement, however, was an artificially enlarged space constructed by Namythiet that was almost the size of my whole house.

There were over a dozen workbenches covering the floor. Scores of tools I couldn't quite recognise hung on the walls. There were heaps of components in massive bins strewn around the room. A number of heavy cupboards apparently held raw materials of varied types and the scene was rounded out by a selection of heavier machines dotted around the place. All in all, it was everything I could have hoped for.

"Looks great, Namy," I said, smiling. "How long did it take you to set this up?"

"Uhh... Well, it took Seth a few weeks to get ahold of this safehouse for me to use, I used that time to track down everything you'd need, and then I was able to install everything in a little over a week! Would've been quicker but Quing was insistent on taking it slow for security reasons."

"Speaking of security," I said, latching onto the topic, "how private is this place? Are your friends in Wonderland listening or anything?"

"Nuh-uh," Namy insisted, shaking her head. "Seth said this was my responsibility to supervise and I double-checked to make sure they weren't listening in anyway. Besides, this room in a pocket dimension, which really messes with a lot of eavesdropping. So you can talk about how much of a jerk Seth is all you want!"

"I might just do that later," I admitted, "but there's something else I really need to tell you."

"What's wrong, Flick?" Namy asked, wings drooping and setting her down on a nearby workbench. I dragged over a nearby office chair and sank into it, putting our eyes on the same level.

"A Heretic came to my house a few weeks ago," I said simply. Namy's reaction was immediate. She flinched away and grabbed at her sword. "Relax, relax, if I thought she was dangerous to you then I would have warned you. You know me better than that, don't you?"

Namythiet relinquished her hold on her sword reluctantly. She was clearly still panicking a bit. I pressed on.

"Her name was Gaia and she was there to—Well, it turns out that I was a candidate for Crossroads recruitment, for some reason. She'd noticed I was playing around on the Internet with tech a bit above the Bystander norm and came to talk to me about it."

"Gaia... That name sounds familiar," Namythiet mused.

"She's the Headmistress of Crossroads Academy, if that helps," I offered. Given how Namythiet paled and swallowed, I guessed it rang a bell. "And it turns out that... Well, at least she said that... I mean, she seemed to be honest but I'm not completely certain—"

"What did she say, Flick?" Namythiet burst out, still very worried. "You're a reporter, aren't you? Condense the facts, tell me about the story! Or something, I think that's how it works..."

I shook my head and got my thoughts in order.

"Sorry, wasn't sure how to put it so it sounded least incredible. But here it is. She said she was part of a secret Heretic movement working to covertly recruit hybrids and other people inclined to like Alters to join Crossroads because she believes not all Alters are evil and wants to change the minds of the rest of Crossroads to quit the wanton murdering."

"Could you go back to mumbling for a moment, I think that's a bit much to take in at once? Thanks!"

Namy sat back with an odd look on her face, humming and staring into space. She was like that for a few moments while I fidgeted and practiced spinning myself in my chair.

"Okay, got it!" Namythiet said, jumping back to her feet with a smile. "You have either gone completely and utterly insane or the world has. Tell me about it from the beginning and I'll try to figure out which it is."

So I told her. Told her how Gaia interrupted every form of communication I had and arrived right outside my door. How I initially panicked before she explained things properly and talked me through what she had in mind.

"Mad or not, she has a point about hiding your stuff better," Namythiet admitted. "What else did she give you?"

"A few contact numbers for her and some other Heretics she claimed I could trust. A few books on magic for hiding and concealment that I brought with me. And a lot of pointers about keeping stuff quiet and undetected."

"I see," Namy said, hovering once more. She looked very uncertain, which was a stark reminder that she was—mentally—about the same age as me. She was probably as lost and confused as I was.

"Okay," she announced after a moment. "I'm going to have to talk to Seth about this. Not anyone else. Except maybe Senny if she drops by. She's cool and knows about Heretics. I think. But just from what you told me, it all sounds pretty reasonable. Though there is one worrying point..."

"What's that?"

Namy looked at me, unusually solemn.

"The official word among Heretics is that human-Alter hybrids aren't possible. That they can't exist. It's a misconception that we like to spread since it helps keep hybrid children safe. But this woman, Gaia, she told you that she knew they existed and is trying to recruit them. If someone else, someone less nice, were to find out about that..."

Gaia had made no bones about the attitudes of her less-tolerant colleagues and their likely response if they uncovered her secret plan. It was a sobering thought.

***

With Gaia's warning in mind, I proceeded more cautiously in my search for Miranda. Once I was absolutely certain that it wouldn't be traced back to me and was ensconced in my secure workshop I launched a vastly-upgraded search engine that would scour damn-near anything even remotely connected to the Internet for any sign of her.

That wasn't to say that it was _fast_. I mean, it was probably quick by Bystander standards, but it still took half an hour to complete its search. There was one relevant result since Rands had moved away.

It was a still taken in a zoo on the other side of the country. The focus of the picture was clearly on the animals, but Rands was visible in the background. I spent a few minutes studying her, making sure that my program hadn't made a mistake. But no, it was definitely her. And she wasn't alone.

I ran the engine again, this time on the handful of people that seemed to be with her, particularly the guy who seemed to be her chaperone.

Then I went and tinkered with a scanning drone that Heretics apparently used in investigations. Namythiet had managed to sneak one out to me and I was having a lot of fun reverse-engineering it. The sensors on it were worlds ahead of Bystander tech. Maybe literally, if aliens really were Alters as well.

I came back to the computer a few hours later. The ones that looked to be around Rands's age had no matches. The older guy had a number of results. Specifically, he was listed repeatedly in the files Namy had given me on Heretics. I opened them up.

Hisao. A ludicrously ancient Heretic who was a Vigile—some kind of particularly badass police officer, if I understood correctly—for Eden's Garden.

Eden's Garden, the Heretic organisation known for recruiting their soldiers young and training them hard.

"Oh, Rands, what have you gotten yourself into?" I asked in a whisper.

***

The summer break had come and gone in a haze of covert trips to Wonderland and my workshop. In the process, I'd considerably advanced my ability to build cool stuff, started to get to grips with magic, and had the pants scared off me by trolling troll who guarded Wonderland under the name Buddy System.

But that was vacation and now I was back in school. And, as usual, I was the only person in the school newspaper. Unlike before, I was aided in my investigations by a fleet of invisible sensor drones that I dispatched to hunt down all the nefarious elements of the school and drag them into the light.

Or—once I realised that there weren't really any 'nefarious elements' in my school and that I was probably majorly invading people's privacy—I just used them to get high-quality photos and sound recording at great angles. The temptation to use them to scan the tests ahead of time was great... But I persevered. If I had my own little shoulder-angel, she would have been so proud of me.

As it was, my shoulder-devil, known to most as Namythiet, laughed herself silly when I complained about the temptation. I made a note to find a counterpart for her, just in case she was a bad influence. I was mostly sure that her suggestions about using the school as a weapons testing ground were jokes. Mostly.

School crawled by, limiting my chances to invent and meet cool new Alters to my weekends. Even then, Dad was beginning to get suspicious when I wasn't able to give him completely satisfactory accounts of what I did during my weekends.

Gaia had been in contact briefly to ask if there was anything else I needed, to which I answered in the affirmative. The word I got back from Seth about Gaia was that she was probably legitimate but that it was best not to rely on her too much.

***

I'd claimed that the cold was getting to me and turned in early one day just before Christmas. Once out of Dad's sight, I changed into warmer clothing and prepared for Namythiet's call. I'd been near-pestering Seth for the last while about letting me help out in some way and I'd finally gotten my wish. Unfortunately, this came in the form of a sudden spree of abductions. Child abductions.

Wonderland was pulling out all the stops to get the kids back, which apparently extended as far as pulling me in. I was to grab anything I thought would be handy for investigation and be ready to leave at any time after sundown.

Namythiet and I had recently come up with another cool trick for getting around which involved teleporting to anyone who called me. In this case, Namy was waiting with an investigator that Seth had called in and would call my phone when I was needed. Then I'd be able to just pop out on her end. So long as she wasn't in Wonderland or anywhere else that blocked teleportation, of course.

My phone rang. I answered. And then I was standing in front of a run-down apartment block I didn't recognise.

At least Namythiet would be present for this meeting with a strange vampire.

***

"Flick, send the camera through first," Asenath ordered. 'Ordered' was the right word. This was an active, high-stakes investigation and I was an untested amateur. Seth's 'little sister'—I wished I was more surprised that he was exaggerating his relationship—was friendly enough but couldn't afford to make a mistake in the field. And so, the orders.

Three taps on my phone brought a bauble about the size of my clenched fist into being just above the screen. It was a glossy black colour all over and hung completely still in the air before drifting forwards at my direction. It passed through the doorway of the apartment—I was ready to pick the lock but Asenath had a key—and began passing through the rooms beyond in a pre-programmed search pattern.

"It won't be able to get through any closed doors," I apologised, "but it will be able to tell if there's anyone on the other side of those doors. Probably."

"I'll take what I can get," Asenath said, leaning against the wall next to the door to wait. "You said it can pick up on traces of magic as well as more conventional trails, right?"

"Yep!" Namythiet chimed in. "We worked together on that part. It works so well that Quing said he'd shoot it out of the air if he ever saw it near the Wonderland defences."

Asenath and I both rolled our eyes at that. I had yet to meet Wonderland's birdman security guard but had heard much about him from Namythiet. I gathered that it didn't take much for something to be landed on his 'not in Wonderland!' list.

The camera I'd sent out would record everything it saw for examination later and had a number of different sensors for analysing the environment as it went along. If Asenath didn't find anything herself, all that data would be useful to sift through for leads, but for the moment it also served as an easy way to tell if there was anyone or any _thing_ dangerous in the apartment.

The flat had two small bedrooms leading into a combined kitchen and living space (with a bathroom leading off from there) and had until recently played home to a family of wereshrews. Last week, the family's three children disappeared while their fathers' backs were turned. Gone between one moment and the next. They were the fifth in a series of such abductions in the last few months, always young Alters that vanished without a sound.

The camera returned to me and disappeared in a flicker.

"It didn't find anyone hiding in there," I reported to the others, scrolling through the report on my phone. "There are a few active spells around but they look like alarm enchantments. Probably put there by the residents."

"Possibly," Asenath conceded, "but not for certain. Stay close, be careful, and get out of here if anything bothers you at all."

"That was what I promised before you even let me into the building," I pointed out as I followed Asenath across the threshold and—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's supposed to end mid-sentence. _flees the growing mob_


End file.
